


In These Moments (We Have Won)

by portraitofemmy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 19:19:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/portraitofemmy/pseuds/portraitofemmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a new boy at East Clovis High School.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In These Moments (We Have Won)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to savvymavvy for reading this through for me.

News of a new kid always spread through the school like wild-fire.

 

Chris generally paid it no mind. What was one more jock or cheerleader or band kid to him? His high-school survival strategy was pretending he wasn’t there, and hoping that others would extend the same courtesy to him.

 

Still, the buzz was running, and Chris couldn’t avoid hearing about it as the kids in his english class talked. He’s from somewhere further north, and I heard his brother’s in a band. Chris tuned them out, focusing on the story that was unfolding in his notebook. Still, he caught a glimpse of short boy with dark curly hair surrounded by a large group of students in the cafeteria as he went to collect his lunch. Chris didn’t envy him the attention.

 

He honestly didn’t expect to have to interact with the new kid all that much. It only took a couple days to ascertain that he wasn’t in any of Chris’s classes, and had no interest in writer’s club. (Not that this surprised Chris. No one ever had any interest in writer’s club.) So Chris was prepared to write him off as another face in the hallway, and leave it at that.

 

Until he got to rehearsal for his latest community theater production, that was. It took him about 2 minutes to notice the new face in the room, and another minute to connect the grinning boy with sparkling eyes and floppy hair to the head of curls he’d glimpsed through the adoring masses.

 

His first reaction was irrational irritation. Theater was supposed to be his place, somewhere he was safe from judgement and the general shitstorm that was high school. How dare this new kid think he can come in as steal Chris’s sanctuary. But try as he might, he couldn’t hold on to the irritation when the kid introduced himself.

 

His name was Darren, apparently, and he’d moved to Clovis from San Francisco. “I’ve been doing theater my whole life,” he said excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet on the stage as he addressed the cast. “I know you guys are in the middle of rehearsals, so I’m totally grateful you’re letting me step in at all. This is gonna be awesome.”

 

It was like his smile was trying to eat his face. Chris really, really wanted to be annoyed by it. Absolutely the last thing he needed was the stupid, charmed swooping in his stomach, the glow of want for a popular boy who was somehow inexplicably into theater, he refused-

 

But then Darren caught Chris’s eye, and smile, softer and more personal than the ten-billion watt grin he’d been shining at the cast. Chris’s heart throbbed in his chest. Fuck.

 

\---

 

Darren was fucking everywhere.

 

He was one of those people who managed to navigate social groups seamlessly. You were as likely to run into him at the quad with the athletic crowd as in the band room with the marching band, or in the library studying with an AP study group.

 

Chris did what he always did, and retreated into the Writer’s Club room. It was easier to avoid Darren than to try to ignore the stupid throb of warmth that pulsed in his chest every time Darren smiled at him. (And Darren kept smiling at him, whenever they passed in the halls, whenever their eyes caught across a room.)

 

But that was fine, Chris had made it through three years of high school so far, he was not going out because of some weirdo heart attack when a boy with pretty eyes smiled at him. Avoidance was working pretty well.

 

At least, until one well aimed locker check sent Chris sprawling, writer’s club posters flying everywhere. The pain throbbed out through his arm, but he was used to ignoring it, pushing to his knees to gather the flyers. Only, someone else was already doing it, gorgeous tan hands, which Chris traced up the arms to Darren’s worried eyes.

 

“Are you alright?” Darren asked, worry evident in his voice, in the crease of his brows, and Chris flushed hotly.

 

“I’m fine,” he muttered, taking back the flyers Darren held out to him. “It’s not the first time.”

 

Darren frowned, and Chris ducked head, breaking eye contact. “That sucks, man,” Darren said sympathetically, and Chris wanted so badly to hate him. But Darren met Chris’s half shrug with another smile, soft and personal, and Chris’s heart did the weird throb thing in his chest again.

 

Darren pushed to his feet, scuffed-up chucks squeaking on the polished tiled floor. His hand came out, an offer of help, and after a moment’s hesitation, Chris took it. The skin-on-skin contact sparkled up Chris’s arm like a live wire as Darren pulled him to his feet. Chris felt caught in Darren’s gaze, bright hazel eyes that tugged inside him, and he knew the danger of this. Darren might be kind, but he wasn’t- he couldn’t be like Chris.

 

Darren dropped his hand, and Chris’s heart sped up, suddenly acutely aware of how red his face must be. The bell was going to ring any moment, and Chris had biology, he had to get to the other end of the school. Still, he felt trapped by Darren’s gaze.

 

“I’ll see you at theater,” Darren said with a smile, bumping his fist against Chris’s shoulder lightly, before turning and walking off.

 

Chris was left there, rooted to the spot, staring at the air where Darren had been.

 

Just, what?

 

\---

 

He did see Darren at theater.

 

Right away, actually, as Darren plopped down on the ground next to him with a grin and a flurry of bright pink. He was wearing pink shoes and pink sunglasses. Chris stared at him, slightly uncomprehending. How did someone like this exist?

 

“So,” Darren started with a grin, settling back on his hands. “We should be friends. We’re the only kids here, and we go to the same school, and you were wearing a chewbacca t-shirt the other day, which means you’ve got to be awesome. So yeah. Friends.”

 

Chris could physically feel his jaw drop open, but he had no response for that.

 

“I mean, unless I did something to offend you?” Darren back peddled, his eyebrows creasing comically. “I’ve been trying to reach out but-”

 

“No,” Chris cut him off, because no. “No, I’m just. I don’t have a lot of friends.” Or any.

 

“I’d noticed that,” Darren bobbed his head. “Plus, I’d heard from some of the others...” Darren trailed off, and Chris heart sank. Whatever Darren had heard about him from their ignorant, small-minded high school, it wasn’t going to be good. “But fuck those guys, man. You have no idea how much I miss being around theater people. So. You’re my people now.” Chris was sure he was blushing again, but Darren swayed into him, bumping their shoulders together, and Chris smiled hesitantly.

 

“You’re from San Francisco, right?” Chris asked hesitantly, and Darren nodded stretching his legs out in front of him.

 

“Bay area, born and raised. Except for a couple years in Hawaii,” He grinned at Chris, and Chris could picture that, Darren’s skin gone darker tan from sun, curls swept up in ocean breeze. He flushed again, realized he was staring, looking away, but Darren swayed into him again, and Chris let himself relax.

 

“It must have been cool growing up there.”

 

“Dude, it was, you have no idea,” Darren grinned, rambling off onto a tangent about the city, and Chris let him, watching Darren speak with his heart in his throat.

 

Darren was engaging to listen to, funny and smart and genuine. He drew Chris into the conversation easily, and Chris had never really talked to anyone who genuinely made him feel like they wanted to listen to him. But Darren did. Eventually they were called into to stage, but they kept finding their way back to each other, and by the end of practice, Chris realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked that actively with someone would wasn’t family.

 

Chris found himself wishing he’d driven himself to practice so he could linger, not wanting the day to be over. But he hadn’t, he’d had no reason to, and his mom had needed the car today anyway. She was already in the parking lot when they made their way out of the rehearsal space, and they parted with a friendly wave, Chris pointedly not watching as Darren headed over to the row of parked cars.

 

The warmth in his chest didn’t settle until much later that night.

 

\---

 

Chris had never met anyone like Darren.

 

He’d expected their “friendship” to be a theater thing, where Darren sat with him when they weren’t on stage, but ignored him most of the rest of the time.

 

But Darren tracked him down to the writer’s club room during lunch the following Monday, knocking softly on the frame of the door. Chris jumped anyway, startled at being disturbed, but Darren just grinned, slumping to lean one shoulder against the frame of the door.

 

“Can I eat with you?” He asked, raising the lunch bag in his hand, and Chris’s heart thumped in his chest.

 

“Technically we’re only supposed to be in here if we’re writing,” Chris admitted, motioning to the notebook in front of him. Then he wanted to kick himself. Why was he trying to talk Darren out of hanging out with him?

 

Darren titled his head, evidently thinking for a moment, before asking “Do songs count? Because I totally write songs.”

 

Of course you do, Chris thought helplessly. “Yeah, songs can count.”

 

“Awesome,” Darren grinned, striding into the room and dropping seat across from Chris.

 

And then, suddenly, Chris had a lunch partner. Darren still spent most of his free time in the band room, because apparently he played every instrument known to man, and Chris knew still hung out with some of some of the popular kids outside of school. Somehow associating with Chris was managing not to stain his social reputation.

 

Only, Chris was starting to realize, Darren probably wouldn’t care if it was. Chris had pretty much resigned himself to making it through high school without any friends, and now that he had one he wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it. He could admit, though, that most of the reason they didn’t hang out outside school was because Chris was busy. Darren dropped hints enough, mentioning trips to the mall or having a new game at home, or even costume hunting for their theater production.

 

They texted sometimes, mostly Darren sending Chris stupid things he was thinking about in the moment, or asking for an opinion about song lyrics. It was weird having his phone buzz off at home, since the only person who ever called him was his mom. He was pretty sure his parents were noticing, but he didn’t say anything about it, and neither did they.

 

The truth of the matter was that Chris just wasn’t used to incorporating other people into his life. His sister had always been his closest companion, and he’d grown up mostly entertaining himself. The idea of going to Darren’s house was kind of terrifying, and the idea of bring Darren to his was just. Not happening. Chris kept his family closely guarded, had since he’d first learned that people could use him to hurt his sister.

 

No, Darren was safer kept at a distance.

 

\---

 

Honestly, Chris spent most of the early part of their friendship waiting for Darren to lose interest in him.

 

But that didn’t happen. Darren only seemed to want to spend more time with him, and after a couple months, Darren’s charm and unfailing kindness started to wear away on the walls Chris put up around himself.

 

At first it was just rides home from school. Chris had to share his mom’s car, and when she needed it for errands or appointments for Hannah, he was left to take the bus home from school. And pretty much nothing sucked more than being a high school senior stuck taking the bus home from school.

 

When Darren had found out he’d scoffed, hand closing lightly around Chris’s wrist (Darren touched him so much, it made everything so much more complicated) and dragged him out to the parking lot.

 

Darren had his own car, a forest green sedan that was rusting out in places and smelled vaguely like burnt pizza whenever it got too hot inside. Darren had inherited it from his older brother when he’d gone off to college, he explained, popping the passenger door open and grabbing the handful of sheet music and CDs that had been dumped there to throw them into the back seat.

 

It took about a week for the rides to become a regular thing. It was fun, though, getting those 20 minutes of uninterrupted time with Darren. They talked sometimes, or sang along to songs on the radio. Darren had a beautiful voice, Chris would honestly have been content to just listen to him, but Darren apparently had a sing-along rule in his car, meaning every one had to do it. Chris was always nervous singing around new people, but Darren just grinned at him the first time he did actually sing along, fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

 

“Your range is amazing,” Darren commented, turning down the volume on the radio so they didn’t have to yell to be heard. “I’m jealous, man, I can’t falsetto that well anymore.”

 

Chris shrugged self-consciously, picking at his jeans. “I can’t get a voice teacher because they’re sure my voice hasn’t broken yet.”

 

“Or you’re a countertenor,” Darren suggest, the smart-ass smile he always wore when he was proud of knowing something peaking at the corner of his lips.

 

Chris rolled his eyes, reaching out to poke Darren in the side, making him squawk. “Or that.”

 

Of course, that meant he didn’t need the car anymore, which was the final push for his parents to ask about his “new friend.”

 

“He’s just a guy from school. His family moved here about two months ago,” Chris deflected on afternoon, helping his mom wash vegetables for dinner. “He’s in community theater with me.”

 

“Oh, that’s nice. It’s nice of you to reach out to him like that.”

 

Privately, Chris couldn’t help but think that it was really Darren reaching out to him, over and over again.

 

\---

 

Chris first met Darren’s family in late November, when Darren convinced Chris to come over and run lines after school. The idea still kind of scared Chris, but they’d been friends for months, and Chris really did like spending time with Darren. Plus, their Christmas production was just around the corner, and running lines was kind of necessary.

 

So instead of Darren taking the now-customary route to Chris’s house after school, he just drove home instead. He lived about 15 minutes away from Chris’s house by car, in a neighborhood pretty much the same as Chris’s. The houses were a little bit bigger and fancier, maybe, but that wasn’t really surprising. Chris knew Darren had been going to a private school before they moved, and that his dad worked for a bank.

 

The house was nice, not big enough to feel ostentatious, but it felt different than Chris’s own, less lived in. Chris felt like every inch of his house had been molded to fit his family, broken in by them. Darren’s house, though warm and inviting, didn’t have that lived-in feel. Chris wondered what Darren’s home in San Francisco had been like. Had they lived there long enough for it to fit their shape?

 

Darren dragged Chris into the a home office to meet his mother pretty much as soon as they were in the door. She was tiny and enthusiastic, pulling Chris into a hug as soon as he was within reach. Darren just stood there watching as Chris awkwardly returned the hug, shit-eating grin big on his face.

 

As much as Darren didn’t look like his mother, the similarities in their mannerisms were immediately evident. Mrs Criss (“Call me Cerina, please, sweetie”) had the same tactile nature and friendly disposition, the same smile. Honestly, it was a little overwhelming.

 

Maybe Darren could tell that, because he was kind enough to pull Chris away, up into the sanctuary of his bedroom. The room was so perfectly Darren it made Chris smile, cluttered and kind of messy, which only made it feel safe somehow. The wall was covered in posters for a wide range of movies, or bands Chris had never heard of, and pictures. Most of the pictures seemed to be of the same group of kids, Darren’s friends from San Francisco, Chris would guess. Darren talked about them a lot, Chris knew he missed them.

 

“C’mon,” Darren said with a grin, twisting his fingers around Chris’s wrist again, pulling him down on the bed until they were settled facing each other, ready to run lines. That only lasted for about half an hour, though, until they got side tracked. Chris wondered if he was ever going to stop marveling at how easy it was for him to just be around Darren, in all the ways it never had been before.

 

He ended up staying for dinner that night, calling to ask permission but his parents were happy to give it. He suspected they were just thrilled he actually had a friend, but he didn’t want to look too closely at that. Darren’s father was home for dinner, and Chris could see the family resemblance strongly between the two of them. It was a good meal, a bit awkward the way first meetings always were, but Chris genuinely liked Darren’s family, and got the impression they liked him as well.

 

The impression was later confirmed by Darren himself, in the car ride back to Chris’s house. It wasn’t that late, Chris had a lot of homework he needed to do that night and couldn’t really stick around, but it was winter and the dark descended early. Darren’s face was lit only by the glow of the dashboard, and it was hard not to take that as an excuse to stare at Darren’s profile, the slightly crooked line of his nose, the plump swell of his lips. It made the tightening in Chris’s chest harder to ignore, and no. He wasn’t jeopardizing his first real friendship for a crush.

 

Still, when Darren pulled Chris into a goodbye hug across the gearshift of his car, Chris couldn’t help but wonder how his life turned into this.

 

\---

 

Hanging out at Darren’s house became sort of a thing after that. They didn’t do it every day, Chris really did like spending time with his sister, and school work didn’t come as naturally to him as it seemed to to Darren. Plus, Darren did hang out with other people from school. Chris knew from the gossip of his 3rd period math class that Kelly Aston, self declared queen of the school, had aims to get Darren as her winter formal date. Chris just tried not to think about it.

 

But they did end up sprawled out on Darren’s bed a couple nights a week, doing homework or running lines or writing. Sometimes Chris marveled at it, how easily he’d slotted into Darren’s life, his physical space. Chris really wasn’t used to being touched, but Darren was an incredibly tactic person, and they were almost always touching in some way, legs overlapping ankles, shoulders brushing, and on one memorable occasion, Darren’s head pillowed on his thigh for a quick nap.

 

The last day of school before winter break found them yet again spread out in Darren’s room. Chris was back to the wall on the bed, notebook in his lap, and Darren was sprawled out across it, ankles twined with Chris’s. His socked feet were twitching in time to whatever melody was playing through his head at the moment, a truly endearing little tick that made Chris smile every time his eyes caught the movement.

 

Darren had been playing some game or other on his phone, but Chris could feel the weight of his eyes when his attention shifted. It still made Chris self-conscious sometimes, the way Darren would look at him.

 

“What?” he asked when Darren didn’t look away, and Darren cocked his head.

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

Chris sighed. “I assume you mean something other than that?” Darren rolled his eyes, kicking out at Chris, and Chris couldn’t help but smile. “I guess so. Yeah?”

 

“Are you gay?”

 

Chris’s heart stopped. “What?”

 

“Are you gay? Because Paula says you are, but she was kind of being a bitch about it, and I really don’t want to assume she knows what the fuck she’s talking about.” Darren still looked relaxed, lounging on the bed like he hadn’t just ruined everything, like Chris’s whole world wasn’t crumbling around him.

 

He couldn’t breath. He sure as hell couldn’t speak. Oh fuck, now what?

 

“Chris?” Darren’s voice was concerned, and he was sitting up now, scooting closer with a worried look on his face. “I don’t care, man. Honestly, I don’t care. I’m from San Francisco, pretty much everyone I knew growing up was gay. I was just curious.”

 

Chris’s windpipe unlocked, heart racing in his chest. Darren seemed sincere though, and wouldn’t it be nice just to have this, have someone know because he told them, not because of an assumption passed around? “I- yes. Yeah, I am.”

 

“Cool,” Darren said with a bob of his head, and promptly pulled Chris into a warm, encompassing hug. Chris stayed stiff in it for a minute, before the pressure of Darren’s arms around him became too much and he melted, letting himself lean into the support Darren was offering.

 

They sat in silence for a minute before Darren spoke again, his voice quiet and low, just for Chris. “Am I the first person you’ve told?” Chris squeezed his eyes shut, and nodded into Darren’s chest.

 

“Yeah, but. But everyone knows anyway. Like you said, Paula and the others... And I’m pretty sure my parents have figured it out too.”

 

Darren pulled away, his smile understanding, and god, Chris was way too attached to this boy. “It’s different to say it yourself and have people assume, though. That’s why I asked. I don’t want to be one of those people.”

 

“You’re not,” Chris said before he could think about it too much. “You’re my best friend.”

 

If Darren’s usual smile was bright, this one was like the sun. “You’re mine too,” He said sincerely, swaying to bump into Chris affectionately as he was given to doing.

 

That could have been the end of it then, Darren laying back down to mess around with his phone again, their feet still tangled together. Chris couldn’t help but wonder, though, couldn’t stop himself from asking.

 

“Are you?” Darren raised a curious eyebrow at him, and Chris flushed, but clarified. “Gay, I mean. Are you?”

 

Darren shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve only ever dated girls. I like dating girls. But I don’t think that means I’ll only ever date girls.”

 

That was. Okay. That was more than Chris would have hoped for honestly. Darren was kind of a hippie and Chris knew that. He really shouldn’t have expected anything else.

 

“Good luck with that,” He said dryly, and Darren laughed.

 

“Shut up,” he muttered, kicking at Chris again. Chris rolled his eyes, and resolutely did not look at the strip of Darren’s stomach the revealed itself when he stretched his arm up behind his head.

 

\---

 

They didn’t see each other much over Christmas break. Darren’s family was going back to San Francisco for Christmas proper, then Darren’s brother was home for a couple weeks.

 

Christmas was what it always was, a bunch of extended family patting Chris’s cheeks and asking if he’d gotten a girlfriend yet. He was used to it, and used to dodging. Only this year it bothered him more than it used to. One of his uncles had a Prop 8 sticker pasted to the back of his car, and spent a good 20 minutes expounding on his support for the amendment during dinner.

 

Chris excused himself from the table early that night, and locked himself in his room for a couple hours, tossing his phone around in his hands until he could work up the courage to call Darren. He ended up firing off a text instead, but they ended up on the phone somehow anyway, and Darren proved the perfect distraction, recounting the antics of his crazy family.

 

They parted with a soft “Merry Christmas”, and the affection in Darren’s voice stuck in Chris’s chest, warming him from the inside out. Clinging to it, he ventured back out into the house to curl up to watch Christmas cartoons with Hannah, purposefully not wondering what falling in love felt like.

 

He honestly wasn’t expecting to see Darren again until school started again, but Darren came by the day his family got back into town. There was a moment of awkward introduction, as Darren hadn’t actually met any of Chris’s family yet, and Darren politely declining the offer of food, saying he’d only come by quickly to say hi.

 

They talked in soft voices on the front porch, perched awkwardly on the swing, knees bumping together in a discrete way Chris hoped his parents wouldn’t notice from inside the house.

 

“You seemed kind of rattled at Christmas, I just want make sure you were okay,” Darren explained, and Chris’s heart pulsed in his chest.

 

“I’m okay,” he reassured. “My extended family’s just kind of. Conservative. It just kind of sucks to listen to how the ‘plague of gayness is destroying the country’ or whatever.”

 

Darren made a face. “That’s so dumb! You parents didn’t say anything?”

 

Chris shrugged. “Why would they? I’m pretty sure they would have agreed ten years ago.”

 

Silence stretched out between them, and Chris looked down, scuffing his sneakers on the porch. Then Darren’s (beautiful, strong, masculine) hand slipped into his, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry,” he said simply, softly, and Chris met his eyes. Darren’s gaze was sincere and sad, but it settled over Chris like a hug. The late afternoon light was perfect for him, casting soft shadows on his features, and he was so gorgeous, Chris had never wanted to kiss someone so badly before-

 

Breaking the gaze, he looked away, out across his front lawn. “Thanks,” he said thickly, and Darren’s fingers squeezed around his again.

 

It felt like they were squeezing around his heart.

 

\---

 

Darren couldn’t believe he’d never seen the ocean.

 

“You realize we live in the middle of the state, right?” Chris said dryly, from where he was perched on the edge of Darren’s bed, watching as Darren poked at his laptop.

 

Darren just dismissed him with a flap of his hand. “That’s no excuse. The closest beach is only.... two hours away! According to google maps, anyway.”

 

It didn’t occur to Chris to be suspicious of Darren’s intense googling until the follow Saturday, when he was being dragged into Darren’s car by his wrist. But then it was too late, and they were on the freeway, packed in with a bag full of junk food and sandwiches from Darren’s mother.

 

“It’s the middle of January,” Chris protested weakly, sinking sulkily back into the passenger seat, but Darren remained determinedly cheerful.

 

“So we won’t swim! Plus, it’s California, it’s not like it ever gets that cold here anyway.”

 

“I question your definition of cold,” Chris grumbled, and judiciously tried not to imagine swimming with Darren, rivulets of water running down a tan, lightly muscled torso... damnit.

 

It was Chris’s first roadtrip with anyone other than family, though, and his surly mood couldn’t last long. He didn’t think that a two and a half hour car ride would ever exactly feel short, but with Darren it was genuinely hard not to have fun. They switched off driving half way to Monterey, and somehow it was weirdly soothing to settle behind the wheel of Darren’s car. Darren sprawled happily in the passenger seat, drumming along to the CD playing through the radio, and Chris let affection for him rise with no attempt to tamp it down.

 

It was mid afternoon by the time they got to Monterey, and they swapped off drivers again at a gas station, Chris reading out printed directions to Darren. It wasn’t actually all that hard to find the beach, there were plenty of signs leading the way.

 

Darren was bouncing and full of energy by the time they found a place to park, pushing himself out of the car eagerly before Chris had even gotten his seatbelt undone. Darren’s fingers closed around his as soon as he was out of the car, tugging impatiently on Chris’s hand.

 

“C’mon!”

 

And then Chris was being pulled across asphalt, laughter rising in his chest as Darren tugged him along, onto shifting sand down a slope to- the ocean.

 

It was vast. Vast and grayer than Chris expected, somehow, a shifting twinkling solid mass of water. Chris’s breath left him in a rush, stunned, and the air tasted like salt when he inhaled.

 

“You grew up next to this?” he asked dumbly, and he could hear Darren laugh softly, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the expanse of ocean in front of him.

 

“Yeah,” Darren agreed softly, swaying into Chris so they were pressed together from their shoulders down to their still-linked hands. “Only my ocean was colder. And foggier. I’d like to take your there, some day.”

 

Chris did look away from the waves then, catching Darren’s gaze. “San Francisco?”

 

“Yeah,” Darren said again, grinning broadly at Chris. “After we graduate, maybe.”

 

Chris’s stomach twisted suddenly, unpleasantly. They didn’t talk a lot about their plans after high school. Chris knew Darren had applied to a lot of schools, in San Francisco and Chicago and Michigan, of all places. Chris was going to consider himself lucky if he got into UC Fresno.

 

Darren’s fingers tightened around his hand, drawing him out of his thoughts. Darren smiled at him softly, and for one crazy moment Chris thought Darren was going to kiss him. But then Darren was pulling away, dropping Chris’s hand with one final parting squeeze. “Come on, let’s go explore!”

 

Chris’s heart raced in his chest, and did the best to block out the disappointment flooding his system. Just because they were close and Darren was bi, or fluid, or whatever, it didn’t mean Chris expected anything from him. He wasn’t going to be one of those guys, he vowed fiercely to himself. He was not.

 

“Are you coming?” Darren called back, grinning broadly and beckoning for Chris. Shaking his head, Chris jogged lightly to catch up with him, following the inexorable pull of Darren’s presence. It was kind of scary, how willing he’d be to follow Darren anyway.

 

It turned out there isn’t actually a lot to do at the beach in the middle of January, though, with swimming and most sand-related activities off the table. They walk for a while, Darren recounting stories of trips to Ocean Beach with his old friends. (Chris privately though that was a really stupid name a beach, but he would never say so to Darren) But neither of them know the surrounding area all too well, and they’re reluctant to stray too far from Darren’s car.

 

They end up getting hamburgers to go from a little dinner on the edge of the beach, brown paper bags leaking with the grease of homemade fries. Darren drags Chris back to the car, hopping up on the hood and patting the warm metal next to him until Chris climbs on as well.

 

They ate like that, out in the open facing the ocean, as the sunset began to paint the sky orange and pink. It had to be one of the most perfectly beautiful moments of Chris’s life, he thought abstractly, surrounded by the vastness of the ocean and anchored by Darren’s steady presence at his side. It was so difficult not to stare at him like this, soft curls tossed in the light breeze and his skin painted gorgeous and glowing by the sun.

 

“Kelly Aston asked me to winter formal.”

 

Darren’s voice shattered the moment, and Chris’s heart sunk, going cold. Abruptly, the burger he’d been eating turned to lead in his stomach, and he put down the rest, feeling queasy. “Oh,” he said dimly, looking out over the ocean. “That’ll be... fun, I guess.”

 

Darren shrugged. “I haven’t said yes. She’s kind of a bitch, sometimes, even if she’s sweet when she’s not around her friends. And... she’s pretty mean about you.”

 

Chris’s stomach twisted again, and he crossed his arms over it protectively. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that, he knew the things people at school said about him. Darren was a good guy, though, the kind of guy would put his friends before girls he liked. Was he asking Chris for permission? “I mean. If you’re looking for girls who are nice to me, you’re going to severely limit your dating pool,” He said eventually, and he could see Darren shake his head out of the corner of his eyes.

 

“No, that’s...” Darren started, then trailed off, twisting around and scooting forward until his knees were brushing Chris’s thighs. “Chris, look at me. Please?”

 

He couldn’t, he couldn’t look Darren in the eye and tell him it was fine to date Kelly, or any other girl at their school. Chris’s heart throbbed miserably, and he bit his lip. But then Darren’s hand brushed softly against his shoulder, as much as it hurt, Darren was his best friend. He met Darren’s gaze reluctantly, and Darren smile at him, just a little, small and nervous.

 

“I don’t think I’m gonna go to winter formal at all,” Darren admitted, and Chris’s brows furrowed in confusion, but Darren answered the question before he could voice it. “Because I really want to go with you, and I’ve seen enough of Clovis to know that would a bad idea.”

 

For a second, Chris was sure he’d misheard or misunderstood. Darren was just looking at him, though, big hazel eyes earnest and warm. “Me?” He breathed out, and it sounded more like a squeak than a word.

 

“Yeah. I mean, I would never presume- I know just because you’re into guys, doesn’t mean you’re into me, I’m not that douchebag, but-” He was rambling, building up steam, Chris could see it, so he shut him up in the only way he could think of, leaning forward to catch Darren’s mouth in a kiss.

 

His lips were soft, so soft under Chris’s, warm and yielding in a way that Chris couldn’t have known to expect. It zinged through his body, excitement battling panic, all marred by the undeniable fact that Darren’s mouth mostly just tasted like cheeseburger.

 

But then Darren was unlocking next to him, humming softly against Chris’s lips, hands coming up to cradle his face. And oh, clearly Darren knew what he was doing, even if Chris had no idea. Darren’s lips slid slowly across his, and it was intoxicating, distracting enough that when Darren’s tongue flicked out against his lip, Chris pulled away with a surprised gasp.

 

Darren was grinning at him, and it was kind of disconcerting, Darren’s familiar smile when Chris knew what those lips felt like now. Shouldn’t something be different? Shouldn’t the world spin differently now, now that Chris had finally kissed a boy? Kissed Darren?

 

Oh god, he’d kissed Darren.

 

The freak out hit him hard and silently, his heart stopping then racing in his chest, breathing going irregular. Dimly he could see worry cloud Darren’s face, then Darren’s hand was on his shoulder, rubbing soothing circle.

 

“Chris? Are you okay?” Darren was scooting closer, and Chris leaned into him instinctively, couldn’t help himself against the warm inviting pull of Darren’s body.

 

“Yeah, I’m-” He took a deep breath, pressing his shaking hands into his thighs, “I’ve never done that before,” he admitted.

 

Darren was quiet for a beat, then he laughed kind of guiltily. “I probably should have guessed that, right?” Chris shrugged, and Darren squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Chris. I didn’t mean to steal your first kiss.”

 

“I kissed you,” Chris pointed out. “It wasn’t- I liked it, I just wasn’t really expecting it.”

 

Darren hummed again, then looked up at Chris with a mischievous look in his eye. “Wanna try again?”

 

Kissing, it turned out, only got better the more you did it. Darren’s mouth was slick and hot under his, addictive and insanely good. Kissing on top of a car, however, was proving to be really inconvenient. It wasn’t until Darren’s foot kicked out, knocking the remainder of Chris’s burger to the ground that they parted, laughing nervously.

 

Darren was deliciously flushed, red staining his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and Chris wanted to keep kissing him, wanted to bury his fingers in Darren’s curls and never stop, never let go. But Darren was laughing self-consciously, rubbing the back of his neck with on hand.

 

“We should probably get home,” he pointed out reluctantly, and for an insane moment Chris wanted to protest, to dig his heels in and never move from this magical location where a boy like Darren wanted him. “C’mon,” Darren said, swaying into Chris for one short, chaste kiss, then he rolled away off the hood of the car.

 

The awkward tension that was threatening to settle between them was held at bay as they tried to navigate their way out of the unfamiliar city in the growing darkness. By the time they’d made it onto the freeway, Darren had found a topic of conversation and run with it, and Chris let himself sink into it. He liked the idea that things with Darren didn’t have to get weird.

 

It was late by the time they got back to Clovis, late enough that all the lights in the bottom floor of Chris’s house were off. Darren caught his eyes, waggling his ridiculous eyebrows, and leaned in towards Chris. They met half way, a soft kiss over the gearshift box, and Darren didn’t taste like burgers at all now, just skin and boy under his tongue.

 

“I’ll see you on Monday,” Darren whispered when they parted, and Chris was left to float up to his doorway like his feet could still actually touch the ground.

 

\---

 

Chris didn’t know what to expect after that.

 

He didn’t know how things would change, if he wanted them too. All that had happened, really, was Darren telling him he wanted to go to a dance together, and Chris kissing him. It wasn’t like they were... dating, or something. Right?

 

By the time he got to school on Monday, Chris had managed to talk himself in a complete circle. Darren had texted him on Sunday, but it was just inane comment about how there had been a spider in his room and now he couldn’t find it. It was dumb, and made Chris laugh, but also completely normal. It was exactly the kind of shit Darren sent him on a daily basis.

 

All told, he hadn’t been so nervous to see Darren since- well, since the beginning of their friendship, honestly. His instinct would probably have been to hide, avoid the confrontation at all, only Darren knew all of his hiding places. And he really did want to see Darren, holy shit did he, he was just. Scared.

 

Of what, though? What was the worst that could happen, Darren just pretending nothing had happened? No, his traitor brain supplies, he could freak out and start hating you and tell you he never wants to see you again. But no, this was Darren, and Chris knew him. Darren wasn’t that guy.

 

Still he wasn’t entirely prepared for the way his heart jumped into his throat when he saw Darren for the first time that day, leaning against his locker and talking easily to a short blonde girl. Darren caught his eye, a grin spreading across his face as he raised a hand to wave at Chris.

 

Despite the nerves he couldn’t help but smile back, nodding a little as he turned towards his own locker. They were okay. Whatever ended up happening, they were okay. Chris let that calm him, popping open his locker to dig out his English book.

 

Then a familiar smell surrounded him, accompanied by a warm hand on his side, and Darren hooking his chin over Chris’s shouldering, whispering a happy “Hey, you” in Chris’s ear.

 

Chris flinched away before he could stop himself, pulling away from Darren’s hands with an instinctive glance around at the people surrounding them. No one seemed to be looking, and that was good. Hurt flashed across Darren’s face, but Chris couldn’t shake off the sudden grip of fear, the flashes of news reports and the thought that there are people who would kill us for this.

 

“Sorry,” he muttered, glancing down, at Darren’s bright pink vans and his own worn old sneakers. “Sorry, I just. I wasn’t- Just because people like you, Darren-”

 

“Yeah, hey, sorry,” Darren rushed, his hands twitching towards Chris before he pulled them back. “I wasn’t thinking. Sometimes I forget I’m not in San Francisco anymore.”

 

Chris smiled shyly, letting the worry from the weekend roll off his shoulders. Clearly Darren wasn’t going to act like nothing was different, and that was all Chris could have hoped for, even if they had to keep it contained to their time outside school. That was fine, Chris had always hated PDA anyway.

 

“I’ll see you at lunch?” Darren asked, and Chris nodded.

 

“Of course.”

 

Darren squeezed his shoulder in parting, and Chris could swear he felt the handprint there for the rest of the day.

 

\---

 

So some things changed, and some things didn’t.

 

Mostly they just touched more. Darren had always been really tactile, but now he was like an octopus, and not happy unless he had at least two limbs in Chris’s personal space. Chris was the one who drew the line for in-public physical contact, and Darren was always happy to respect that. The only time he ever pushed it was once their spring theater production started in February, he’d occasionally drift to sleep with his head on Chris’s shoulder. It was hard to get mad about that though, with soft curls brushing his cheek and Darren sleep-warm against his side. It helped that no seemed to care.

 

Tucked away in the privacy of Darren’s bedroom, the rules were completely different. Mostly Chris got braver, brave enough to tangle their legs together while doing homework, to curl up against Darren’s back when he played guitar, to crawl into his lap to trade hot, burning kisses.

 

They really did kiss a lot. It wasn’t all they did, they were too good friends with too much in common to let everything else they’d always done together slide completely out of their lives. But they did have a glorious couple hours most afternoons when Darren’s house was empty and Chris could pull Darren down on top of him to kiss until their mouths ache, hips kept part by unspoken agreement.

 

That was how Darren’s family found out about them, actually. It was a ridiculously high school cliche that Chris sort of hated himself for falling into, but they got so caught up in each other they didn’t hear Darren’s mom get home. She didn’t seem upset, just raised an eyebrow at Darren and asked to see him downstairs for a minute. It was thoroughly mortifying, and Darren squeezed his hand apologetically before following his mother out into the hallways, leaving Chris sitting awkwardly alone on his bed.

 

The upside was that embarrassment was a pretty good boner killer.

 

He’d been sitting there waiting for about 5 minutes before it struck him that he didn’t know if Darren was out to his parents yet. They probably wouldn’t care, but still. Guilt twisted in Chris’s stomach, and he curled in on himself. Part of him wanted to flee, but he couldn’t do that to Darren, couldn’t leave him to deal with this by himself, especially if it went badly. Chris cared about him too much for that.

 

Luckily Darren came back not long after that, looking slightly embarrassed, but no worse for the wear otherwise.

 

“She’s not mad,” Darren reassured, sinking down next to Chris on the bed. “Mostly she just wanted to remind me that we’re not in San Francisco and that we need to more careful than I’m used to. Actually she said she’d rather have us here than somewhere else less safe.”

 

“Oh,” Chris whispered, feeling his face flush. Being given permission to hook up by Darren’s mother, that was... weird. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

 

“She wants to talk to you,” Darren said after a beat, and panic must have flashed across his face, because Darren rushed to reassure him. “I don’t think it’ll be too bad. She’ll probably tell you exactly what she told me.”

 

The walk down the stairs felt like a march to the gallows, but Cerina was sitting perched on a stool in the kitchen, and she smiled warmly at him as he approached. It was so like Darren’s smile he couldn’t help but be comforted by it, even as the nerves rose in his chest.

 

“Hi, honey.” Cerina motioned him over, and he took the stool across from her with some trepidation. “I’m guessing I don’t need to remind you that you need to be careful in this town?” Chris shook his head, and she nodded in sympathy. “I trust Darren, but I know my son, and I know he’s impulsive. I’m hoping you’re level-headed enough to reign him in some.”

 

“I try,” he muttered, smiling weakly, and she laughed.

 

“Good, I’m glad. I’ll skip that part of the speech then. What matters most to us is that Darren’s safe, so if you two are going to be together, we’d prefer you were here than somewhere public. But Darren knows we expect him to be respectful of the other people living in this house.”

 

Chris flushed. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

Cerina laughed softly. “I know this is uncomfortable honey, we’re almost done, I promise. One more thing. Do your parents know about this?”

 

Oh god. Was she going to tell them? He didn’t think Darren’s parents had ever met his before, but parents had their ways, didn’t they? “No, they don’t. Please, please don’t tell-”

 

Cerina cut him off before he could build up too much steam. “I won’t, honey. That’s between you and them. I just want you to know that as long as you’re involved with Darren, you’ll have our support.”

 

And if Chris’s throat tightened and his eyes watered a little bit at that, well. Chris was pretty sure Cerina wouldn’t tell Darren about it.

 

\---

 

Chris did end up telling his parents, but it wasn’t planned, or really even thought out beforehand. It happened one afternoon after Darren dropped him off from school. Chris had a project he really needed to work on that night, so they were parting ways earlier than they might have otherwise, but they’d been joking around in the car, the Chris entered the house the a smile still stretched wide across his mouth.

 

“Look at you, Smiley,” His mother observed, when he stuck his head into the kitchen to say hello to her. She was sitting at the table pouring over some papers, and he grabbed a can of diet coke out of the fridge and dropped to sit next to her. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

 

“Just Darren, being a dork,” He brushed it off, the smile still linger on his mouth widening again when he remembered Darren’s running commentary about ninja turtles the entire way home.

 

“He seems like a good friend to you,” His mother said absently, shuffling the papers around in search of something.

 

He was still so absorbed in the memory that he spoke without thinking much of it. “He’s kind of my boyfriend, actually.” His mother froze, and the full weight of what he’d just said hit him. But now that it was out, he had no desire to take it back. Darren made him so happy, and he really wanted to be able to share that with someone. “I mean, it’s not like we can really date. Not here anyway. But he’s- that’s how I feel about him.”

 

His mother remained silent for a moment, then stood up without a word and hugged him, tightly. A breath he hadn’t known he was holding escaped from his body, and he let himself lean into her familiar embrace.

 

“Do you want something to eat?” she asked when she pulled away, moving back to shuffle her papers around again. Her voice sounded oddly tight when she spoke.

 

Chris just shook his head. “No, I have a project to work on, I think I’m just gonna. Go do that.”

 

It was a quick escape to his room after that, his heart pounding in his chest. Dropping his school bag carelessly on his bed, he dug out his phone to send off a text to Darren.

 

To Darren:) - I kind of just told my mom about us.

 

He’d expected to have to wait a while for a text back, he didn’t even know if Darren had made it home yet, but his phone started buzzing almost immediately and didn’t stop. He glanced down at it, surprised to see a call coming in.

 

“Hey?” He answered, and he could hear the rumble of road noise from the other end of the line.

 

“How’d that go?” Darren asked, and god, just hearing his voice made Chris smile.

 

“She just hugged me and offered me food,” Chris admitted, sinking down into his bed.

 

Darren laughed. “Well. There could be worse reactions.”

 

“Yeah,” Chris agreed. “I think I was sort of expecting worse.”

 

They talked until Darren got home, and then Chris sat in silence through the bump and scuffle of Darren making it from his car to his bedroom, then they talked some more. “I thought the whole point of us not hanging out today was that you needed to do homework?” Darren pointed out eventually, and Chris sighed.

 

“I really don’t want to, though.”

 

Darren just laughed, and Chris smiled with it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Chris replied. “Bye, Darren.” I love you. It hung there, unspoken on the back of his tongue, the addition to the farewell he couldn’t bring himself to say. He bit his lip, keeping the words at bay.

 

“Bye.” Darren’s voice was warm and affectionate, and Chris couldn’t help but wonder if he was biting back words of his own. Chris hung up the phone with a sigh, letting it drop down on the mattress by his side.

 

\---

 

Chris hadn’t meant to ask Darren about sex.

 

He didn’t really mean to be thinking about sex as much as he was, lately. But he couldn’t really help it, not now that he had a boyfriend with a soft, hot-wet mouth and strong masculine hands and really, really nice ass.

 

In the past, he’d always felt vaguely guilty about having sexual fantasies about other guys. It felt creepy, like he was taking advantage of them or using them in some way without their knowledge. He couldn’t bring himself to force himself on someone else, even in his own head.

 

With Darren though, he knew he was wanted. It was hard to forget when Darren would roll him over in the middle of making out, pin him to the bed and kiss down his neck to whisper “God, you’re so gorgeous” in his ear. Which had been embarrassing and hard to believe at first, and also kind of a boner killer. But he was slowly learning to take Darren’s compliments, and believe that he meant them.  

 

It helped that it was pretty easy to tell he turned Darren on. It was inexplicable, and he still couldn’t quite get why, but Darren wore pretty tight pants which really did nothing to hide a hard-on. Darren never seemed embarrassed about it, either, he’d just grin a little cheekily and adjust himself in his pants.

 

So no, Chris didn’t really have a lot of qualms about imagining sex with Darren. Which was great, late at night with his door shut tight and his hand curled around his cock. It was a wonderful abstract mix of soft mouth and strong arms and warms skin he’d felt once, getting carried away and sliding his hand up the back of Darren’s t-shirt.

 

Other times, though, thinking about sex with Darren meant wondering about all the other people who might have gotten to have him like that. Chris knew Darren had had girlfriends in the past. It was pretty reasonable to guess that he’d had sex before, at least one way or another, with one of them.

 

It was a confusing mix of jealousy and apprehension, his preoccupation with that idea. He would never blame Darren for having dating before they met, but that couldn’t stop him from hating Darren’s previous girlfriends a little bit, for getting to have him before Chris. At that same time, though, it was nerve-wracking to think that he might be held up and compared to somebody else, especially someone of a different gender.

 

Still, he hadn’t really planned on asking Darren about it. It just sort of slipped out one afternoon, when they were shut away in the safe haven of Darren’s bedroom.

 

“Have you had sex before?”

 

Darren’s head snapped up from the textbook he was hunched over on his desk, swiveling to face Chris with a comically shocked look on his face. Affection pulsed in Chris’s chest, mixing with apprehension. “What?” Darren asked dumbly, and Chris looked away, down at the book on his lap.

 

“I was just wondering if you’ve had sex before?” Chris admitted, his cheeks flushing. Wow, Darren’s bedspread was really interesting, how could he have not noticed the intricacies of Spiderman before?

 

“Have you been thinking about having sex with me?” Darren asked, and Chris could practically hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

 

“Shut up, it’s hard not to with your massive boner poking me in the hip every time we make out,” he huffed, grabbing the closest thing he could get his hands on (a pen) and chucking it at Darren.

 

Darren just dodged out of the way, laughter bubbling out happily. “Hey, it’s your fault for being such a good kisser.”

 

A happy flush spread across Chris’s cheeks. It was hard not to be flattered when Darren was so earnest, even in his joking. Still, he hadn’t exactly answered the question. “Well, have you? Had sex?”

 

“Yeah,” Darren nodded, the smile sliding off his face. “I mean, not like, a lot or anything. But with my last girlfriend, yes. Is that a bad thing?”

 

Chris shook his head, looking back down at his fingers, still absently tracing the bedspread. “No. I was just curious.”

 

“Chris,” Darren’s voice was soft, in the I-know-better voice he used whenever he was calling Chris on his bullshit. Still, Chris couldn’t quite make himself look up, but then the weight on the bed was shifting, and Darren was crawling up to him, settling down straddling Chris’s extended legs. One of his hands slid into Chris’s hair, tilting his head up as Darren twined the fingers of his other hand through Chris’s. “Hi.”

 

“Hi,” Chris smiled, couldn’t help it, and Darren leaned forward to kiss him softly, fleetingly.

 

“What I’ve done with anyone else doesn’t matter,” Darren said earnestly, gazing at Chris so intently he almost wanted to remind Darren to blink. “We don’t have to do any more than you're comfortable with.”

 

“Maybe I want more,” Chris breathed out, looking up into Darren’s open face, watching as Darren’s eyes flicked down to his mouth. “Maybe I don’t know how to ask for it.”

 

Darren made a dry sound, like he was choking on his own tongue for a moment, then he was pushing forward into another kiss, hot and fierce in a way that sent shivers chasing through Chris’s body. “You can’t just say things like that when my mom is home, shit, Chris.”

 

Breath puffed hot across his lips, and for a minute Chris wanted to say fuck it, wanted to push Darren down and feel him, against his palm or thigh or groin. But he couldn’t shake the memory of promising Darren’s mother he’d be level headed, that they’d be respectful.

 

“Later,” he panted, lips brushing Darren’s as he spoke. “We can, sometime soon, we can. When we have time.”

 

Darren groaned, and shit that was not conducive to helping Chris control himself. “You’re killing me,” Darren whined, falling sideways so he was sprawled out on the bed, one leg still draped over Chris’s and his erection really quite obvious in his jeans. Chris realized he really should probably stop looking at it, eyes flicking up to Darren’s face only to find Darren watching him with a smirk. Raising an eyebrow, Darren slid one hand down to press against the shape of his cock in his pants, a soft whine leaving his throat on an exhale.

 

“Darren,” Chris said desperately. “Later, come on.”

 

“Yeah,” Darren agreed and his hand fell away. “Later.

 

\---

 

Later took a lot longer to happen than either of them anticipated.

 

Theater rehearsals were kicking into high gear as March drew to a close, and they ended up losing a couple weekdays to that. Chris didn’t want to complain, he loved theater, loved it more with Darren by his side. Still, the lack of privacy was frustrating now that he knew what was on the horizon, a soft kiss stolen in secret after practice before they parted ways just wasn’t enough anymore.

 

So when Darren slide up to him at lunch on Tuesday the follow week, looking at Chris with that look that could only mean trouble and asked “Skip the rest of the day with me?” Chris just said yes.

 

It was really out of character for him, he never cut classes unless his sister was sick, but Darren’s mom was gone for the afternoon, and all he had that afternoon was PE and Writer’s Club. It wasn’t either of those things would really miss him.

 

Of course, cutting class with the express intention of having sex did end up cranking up the pressure on the actual sex-having. Somehow he’d avoided being nervous so far, caught up in his hormones and in the feels for Darren that swirled around in his chest whenever he was around, that Chris had somehow managed not to think about how having sex with Darren would have to mean being naked in front of him.

 

That hit him, hard and silent, as Darren grabbed his hand and pulled Chris into the house with all the eager energy that always possessed him. Darren, amazing Darren with his tan skin and tiny trim waste and strong hands and arms and Chris was nothing like that. Generally he tried to avoid thinking about how he looked under his clothes, what if Darren got him out of them and realized that he didn’t want Chris after all, that he wanted someone with curves in other places and-

 

“You’re freaking out,” Darren’s voice broke through the panic rising in his brain, and he realized that he’d been standing dumbly in the middle of the Criss’s entryway, staring at the coat rack.

 

“Sorry, I-” he started, but the words died in his throat, and he looked at Darren pleadingly, silently willing him to understand.

 

To his credit, Darren got it almost right away. “Hey, shh,” he murmured soothingly, stepping forward quickly to wrap Chris up in a hug, warm and secure, chin hooking on Chris’s shoulder. “Don’t freak out. Why are you freaking out? Don’t freak out, it’s just me. I do stupid shit all the time. You literally made fun of me for half an hour yesterday because I stabbed myself with a pencil. Why would you freak out around me?”

 

Chris laughed, couldn’t help himself, sinking forward into the warm press of Darren against his chest. Darren was right, it was stupid to be nervous. But. “What if I’m bad at it?”

 

Darren pulled back, raising his eyebrows, dubious. “Sex? I’m gonna be honest with you, Chris, pretty much any combination of you and my dick is pretty much guaranteed to be awesome.”

 

“But what if-”

 

“If things don’t go well this time, then we just have an excuse to practice more. Yeah?” Darren nudged forward, his nose bumping against Chris to make him laugh. It worked and Chris sank into the hug again, letting Darren fill his senses.

 

“Okay,” he agreed, squeezing Darren tightly in his arms before releasing him. “Let’s do this.”

 

They chased each other up the stairs, hand in hand, Darren stumbling over his own feet and making them both laugh. Then they were behind the closed door of Darren’s bedroom, and they were kissing, hot and wet and deep, and Chris kind of forgot to be nervous.

 

Because he had permission to look and touch now, all the secret glances and stolen touches he’d stockpiled over the last couple months were completely obliterated by being able explore. So he took advantage of it, pushing Darren back onto his bed and kissing him hard, sucking on his tongue until Darren moaned and arched under him.

 

They lost their shirts pretty quickly, and seeing Darren shirtless shouldn’t have felt as revolutionary as it did. But he was lean, with a soft swell at his stomach, and a smattering of dark hair  leading down to his cut hips, and jesus, Chris couldn’t think. “Darren,” he muttered, letting his hands explore as they wanted, running up across warm skin to tiny pebbled nipples.

 

And that was fun, the way Darren reacted to that, hips arching up off the bed as Chris thumbed at the buds of his nipples. “Chris, kiss me, please,” Darren panted, and of course Chris was happy to oblige.

 

It was easy to get carried away after that. Kissing was familiar, wonderful and perfect and hot, Darren’s hands on him were new but exciting. Darren’s fingers scraped down his back, blunt nails dragging ever so slightly, just enough to make Chris whine and rut down a little against Darren. And oh, that was- fantastic, Darren hard and pressing against him through the layers of their pants, cocks slotted together for a perfect drag.

 

Then Darren’s hands were sliding down the back of his pants, gripping and massaging at his ass, and Chris had honestly had no idea that could feel so fantastic. He whined in Darren’s mouth, Darren’s teeth catching his lip when he went to pull back. “Fuck, Chris, you have an amazing ass,” Darren panted, and Chris rutted down against him helplessly, the praise more of a turn on than it probably should be.

 

“Should we- pants?” He asked between labored breaths, and he didn’t really want to pull away from Darren long enough to get their pants off but he somehow suspected it would be worth it.

 

“Yeah,” Darren agreed, pushing Chris up enough so he could attack Chris’s fly, hands scrabbling to get inside. Then his perfect, strong, wide hand was wrapping around Chris’s shaft, stroking him.

 

“Darren,” He gasped, almost pleading, then swore as Darren thumbed the head of his cock, letting Chris push into his grip helplessly.

 

“You feel so good, Chris,” Darren said hoarsely, “So good in my hand.”

 

Chris couldn’t respond, strung too high on pleasure, lost to it. His fingers stumbled against Darren’s skin, hands skidding over to his biceps to get a grip on something. But fuck, he could feel the flex of Darren’s arms like this, the movement of muscles in time with the motion on his cock. And that was just too much.

 

“Darren,” he whined desperately, trying to hold back. They hadn’t been doing this long, it was too short to last, right? But he couldn’t.

 

“It’s okay, Chris. I want to see.”

 

There was no hope after that, his fingers clamping down hard around Darren’s upper arm as orgasm chased up his spine, shivers of tingling pleasure radiating out to his limbs. “Shit,” he panted helplessly, falling forward onto Darren’s chest.

 

Darren let him bask in it, rubbing his clean hand over of the span of Chris’s back in long, soothing strokes.

 

Embarrassment returned with coherency, and Chris blushed when he pulled away, overly aware of his shirtlessness and the mess in his boxers. “I’m sorry, we didn’t even- we’ve still got our pants on.”

 

Darren shook his head, arching up a little where his hard-on was still pressed against the back of Chris’s thigh. “Fuck, don’t you dare apologize, that was so hot.”

 

“Yeah?” Chris asked tentatively, shifting his weight to accommodate the motion of Darren’s hips under him, and watched in awe at the slack look of pleasure swept his face. “What can I do? I want to make you- Can I make you come?”

 

“Shit, yeah,” Darren swore, almost bucking Chris off him with a hard push of his hips. “Please, Chris.”

 

With trembling hands, Chris reached down to undo the fastenings on Darren’s pants. There was an awkward moment of shuffling as Darren wriggled under him, trying to help push down his jeans and boxers. Then his hard cock was flopping out onto his stomach, flushed read and veiny like the rest of him.

 

Chris’s mouth actually watered at the sight. What would it be like, to lean down and sink his mouth over that? He shook himself, though, reaching forward curl his hand around the solid weight of Darren’s cock. It felt familiar, maybe a little warmer than he was used to, like Darren ran a couple degrees hotter than he did. He wouldn’t be surprised.

 

Any kind of apprehension was easily pushed aside in favor of watching Darren react. He was gorgeous, the way his muscles rippled under his skin in response to Chris’s motions. It was easier to take cues from his reactions than to think about it too much, so Chris focuses on what drew out low groans and twitches of hips.

 

“Kiss me,” Darren begged softly, tension radiating through his entire body, and Chris tipped forward, twisting his arm at a weird angle to keep his grip while he stretched forward to catch Darren’s mouth in a kiss. He came with a groan against Chris’s lips, warm pulses in his hand.

 

Silence echoed profoundly around them in the space between their breath as they came down together. Then Darren, inexplicably, started giggling underneath him.

 

Chris pulled back, looking down at him nonplussed. “What’s so funny.”

 

“I think I came my brain out,” Darren snickered, and Chris couldn’t help but laugh along, flopping sideways. “That was awesome.”

 

“It really was,” Chris agreed, smiling softly to himself as Darren rolled over, nuzzling into Chris’s shoulder.

 

“Can we do it again?”

 

Twisting his neck down to look at Darren, who was looking up at him hopefully with big happy eyes, Chris couldn’t help the laughter that was bubbling up in him again. “Give me a minute, okay?”

 

Darren just grinned, pushing up for another kiss.

 

\---

 

Darren was kind of obsessed with the scar on Chris’s neck.

 

He’d asked about it a long time ago, back before skin to skin contact was a regular thing for them. Chris had explained that it was from surgery as a child, nothing more sinister than an infected lymph node, but Darren still seemed fascinated with it. He’d run his fingers or lips over it, sometimes, when they lay squished together on his tiny bed, sweat cooling on their naked skin.

 

Chris supposed he could understand it. He himself couldn’t quite shake his fascination with the birthmark on the back of Darren’s neck, right where it met his shoulder, a perfect place to kiss. Still, sometimes Darren would brush his thumb over the scar gently, cradling the nape of Chris’s neck in his palm, and Chris would wonder.

 

“It’s proof you’re human,” Darren whispered one afternoon, like there was a chance that he wasn’t, like Darren saw him as something other, more or better. It made Chris’s heart throb with love in his chest.

 

Love.

 

He was in love. In love with a silly, crazy, manic boy from the Bay Area with wild hair and warm eyes, and a warmer heart. The problem was, he didn’t know what to do with it. Chris had never expected to fall in love in high school, in Clovis, where everything was so complicated. He’d expected to meet a guy in college, maybe, someone quiet and reserved like himself, someone he could share silence with.

 

Darren was anything but quiet and reserved. And now that he’d had the opposite, Chris couldn’t imagine anything thing different. Darren challenged him, pulled him out of his shell, out of the bubble in his own head that could sometimes consume him. Darren was loud and energetic and enthusiastic, in everything from movie watching to songwriting to cock sucking, and Chris loved him.

 

Chris loved him.

 

He could mouth it into Darren’s skin when they kissed, whisper it into the dark at night as he thumbed through his texts. But he couldn’t say it out loud. The words kept getting stuck on his tongue, almost spilling off at the wrong moments, and disappearing at the right ones. It was becoming frustrating, truthfully, like a weight hovering over the back of his neck, and if he could just say it, the knots in his stomach might untie.

 

Of course, with all the stress actually saying it had been causing him, it would figure that Darren would beat him to it.

 

He was so casual about it, too, the words just rolling off his lips one evening at rehearsal.

 

Chris had run out to make a Chipotle run during a late practice, and he hadn’t time to ask Darren what he wanted. Darren was on stage and he was barely going to have time to make it back before he himself had to get back up there. But they’d been out to eat together enough that he felt pretty confident in his ability to guess what Darren might want.

 

Darren’s eyes lit up like the sun when Chris dropped down next to him and handed him a crackling plastic case full of tacos. “You’re the best,” Darren muttered with a grin, snapping open his dinner. “I love you.”

 

Chris’s froze, half unwrapped burrito in his hand. Darren seemed not to realize what he’d said, happily crunching into his taco. “Do you mean that?” Chris asked, and his voice came out as a squeak.

 

Confusion flicked across Darren’s face for a moment, like he wasn’t sure what Chris was referring too. Then a smile spread, slow and cautions, across his lips. “Yeah, I do,” He admitted with a little shrug. “Is that okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Chris rushed to agree, heart racing against his ribs. “Yes. I love you too.”

 

Darren’s smile bloomed into a grin and he leaned in towards Chris. When they kissed, it tasted like tacos, and that left Chris giggling, remembering their first kiss over burgers. Darren pulled back, biting his own lip a little as he watched Chris giggle with a fond shake of his head.

 

Love was crazy, and Chris hoped it would never, ever end.

 

\---

 

Darren’s college acceptance letters started rolling in before Chris’s, the first one coming in early April.

 

Chris was at his house when it came, the two of them sprawled out in the living room in the hope that the public setting might motivate them to actually get some work done. Cerina had the mail in her hand when she walked in, greeting them with a smile and a hello, and was part way through an inquiry if Chris would be staying for dinner when she cut herself off with a startled gasp.

 

“Darren!”

 

Chris glanced up, eyes flicking from his boyfriends startled face to Cerina, who was grinning and waving an envelope at him. “Is that a college letter?” he asked, and Chris’s heart leapt into his throat.

 

“San Francisco State!” Cerina confirmed, and Darren scrambled up to take the letter from her. Chris followed more slowly, drawn to Darren’s side as he stared at the letter clutched in his shaking fingers.

 

“What if I don’t get in?” Darren asked softly, worried eyes flicking to Chris then to his mother.

 

“Of course you’ll get in,” Chris reassured, rubbing Darren’s arm lightly as his mother agreed.

 

“Should I wait until Dad gets home?”

 

“Oh, just open it!” Cerina said in exasperation, flapping at her son excitedly. Chris felt knots of sympathetic worry twist in his stomach as Darren’s fingers tore at the paper of the envelope, slipping the letter out.

 

There was a moment of collectively held breath as Darren’s eyes flicked quickly across the words, then a grin broke out across his face. “I got in!”

 

Then Darren was hugging him, and Cerina was hugging them both, and they were all jumping and spinning and laughing, and Darren disentangled long enough to hug his mom long and hard, then he was back to Chris, pushing a swift, short kiss against his lips, heedless of his mother’s presence.

 

“I knew you would,” Chris whispered, pulling Darren into another hug. “I knew it.”

 

Dinner that night was turned into a celebration, which Chris was invited to stay for, but he couldn’t help but feel like he would be imposing. Darren had a limited amount of time left with his family now, even if the only place he got into was SFSU, he’d be away from them in a couple months.

  
Chris staunchly avoided the worried little voice that pointed out that in a couple months he’d be away from Chris too.

 

TISCH came in next, on an afternoon Chris had taken to spend with his sister. Darren texted him that the letter had come, then called him 2 minutes later shrieking into the phone that he’d been accepted. Hannah had looked at him with that brother you’re being obnoxious glare she’d perfected over the years, and Chris excused himself so he could listen to Darren babble for 20 minutes about how good a school it was, and how it had been a reach really, and he couldn’t believe they’d taken him.

 

Only, it was harder to ignore the feeling of being left behind this time. San Fransisco was one thing, it was only a couple hours away by car. TISCH was in New York. New York, which had Darren’s brother and Broadway and so many opportunities, what reasons could Darren possible have for not going there? Chris curled his arm around his stomach and swallowed around the lump in his throat, and let Darren gush.

 

Still, Darren was waiting to hear from Michigan before he confirmed anywhere. He was convinced the long wait for response meant it would be a denial, and though Chris couldn’t conceptualize of anywhere that wouldn’t want to take Darren, in terms of himself he was inclined to agree. He hadn’t reached anywhere near as much as Darren had, just a couple University of California schools and Fresno Community, and yet still he heard nothing.

 

Until he did. By some weird, cruel twist of fate, both the UC letters came on the same day. Maybe it was lucky, he thought as he clutched two denial letters in numb fingers. Now at least he wouldn’t have to deal with the disappointment twice. Dimly he knew he should call Darren, let him know, but he didn’t think he’d be able to make himself form the words. I’m stuck here, and you get to leave, and I’ll miss you so much I think I might die.

 

When Darren called him that night, he let it go to voicemail. He thumbed open the text message notifications, reading them without responding, heart cramping as he realized, properly for the first time, that soon this is all he’d have of Darren.

 

Of course, it was Darren, and he wasn’t states away (yet), and he didn’t take to being ignored very well. It was around 10 when he heard the familiar grumble-roar of Darren’s car pull up to his house, and a handful of breaths before there was a knock on the door. Another couple of breaths, and then the muffled sounds of his mother’s voice, and the deeper tones of Darren’s voice floated up the stairs.

 

Snuffling against his pillow, Chris pulled the throw blanket wrapped around him tighter, and willed, just this once, for the universe to leave him in peace. But the light foot falls bouncing up the stairs could only belong to one person, and Chris squeezed his eyes tight.

 

There was a cursory rap on the door, then Darren was pushing into the room, and Chris sighed inwardly.

 

“Are you mad at me?” Darren jumped right to the chase, pushing the door closed behind him and gazing imploringly at Chris across the room in the dim light of the desk lamp. “Because if you are, just deciding to ignore me is a really shitty way to go about handling it.”

 

“I’m not mad at you,” Chris promised, eyes flicking from Darren down his bedspread.

 

A beat of silence, and then Darren asked, voice softer now. “Are you okay?”

 

Tears threatened to flood him and he swallowed thickly, ignoring the question. “Why are you here, Darren?”

 

“I- Didn’t want to go to bed with you mad at me. If you were.”

 

It was a painfully romantic sentiment, perfectly, weirdly Darren-esque, and it brought the tears closer to the surface. Darren took a tentative step towards him, then another, and when Chris made no motion to stop him, he was crawling up into the bed, burrowing into the blanket nest Chris had going around himself until he was wrapped tight around Chris’s body.

 

He was being pushy, treading the boundary lines of sane boyfriend behavior, and Chris would have been well within his rights to call him on it. He found he didn’t want to, though, rolling over until he could curl into Darren’s chest. Pushy felt good right now. Pushy was the opposite of being left behind.

 

“Baby, what happened?” Darren’s voice was soft, whispered and more serious than Chris was used to. He sighed, burying his nose in the soft fabric of Darren’s worn t-shirt, drawing strength from the familiar smell.

 

“I got my letters from University of California today. I didn’t get in to either school.”

 

There was another beat of silence where the tears threatened to come out again, then Darren’s arms tightened around him. “I’m sorry. Chris that sucks, I’m really sorry.”

 

Chris shrugged awkwardly through the hug, wiggling one arm free so he could reach up to wipe the wetness gathering in his eyes. “I’m not surprised, it’s not like my test scores were stellar. I guess there’s always community college.”

 

He could hear the bitterness in his own voice, and this was why he hadn’t wanted to talk to Darren about this. Darren was getting the chance to make his dreams come true, why should he have to deal with Chris dragging him down from that.

 

Why should he have to deal with Chris dragging him down at all?

 

Darren pulled him close again as he gave in and finally let the tears come. It felt like a release to be held and rocked, to let himself be weak and vulnerable in the ways he never let himself be with anyone but Darren. Darren, who rubbed warm broad palms in soothing archs down his back and whispered love in his ear. Chris was going to miss him so much.

 

“I’ll miss you too, Chris, you don’t even know,” Darren promised, his own voice choking up.

 

And what else was there to say to that? Promises they’d make later, if and when the time came. Plans they could make when Chris’s future was more certain. As much as Chris wanted to beg Darren not to leave him, he knew that when the time came he’d help push him out the door, because that’s what you did when you loved someone.

 

“I love you,” he whispered into the damp, stale air in the space between Darren’s neck and the pillow. Because that’s really all there was to say.

 

\---

 

Darren's letter from Michigan did come eventually, and he got in, of course he did. Chris knew that Ann Arbor had always been the goal for him, knew that as long as it was an option, Darren would never really be happy anywhere else. So Chris swallowed his pride and hurt and fear when Darren started talking about maybe just going to San Francisco, and put his foot down.

 

"It's still a good school, and I do love the city," Darren pointed out one afternoon when they were sprawled out on his bed in shorts and a t-shirts, limbs tangled in a lazy way as the late-day sun streamed in through Darren’s window. He was revving up steam, Chris could tell, building up to talking himself into something, but Chris cut him off.

 

"If you don't go to Michigan, I'm breaking up with you," he said flatly. It was an empty threat and they both knew it, but it seemed to get the point acrossed. "I can't be the thing that keeps you from your dreams, Darren," he said more softly. "I would hate myself."

 

Darren just sighed, and wrapped his arms around Chris. "What if you are my dream?"

 

"I'm not," Chris said, and it almost didn't hurt to say. "If I'm lucky I might get to see them, though."

 

“You will,” Darren promised. “And you could maybe apply to Ann Arbor next year, you know, do general stuff at Fresno then try again.”

 

“Maybe,” Chris said softly, privately thinking it wasn’t likely to make much of a difference. He’d consider it a win if Darren still wanted him after a year of college.

 

As much as it felt like life was turning into a giant countdown until Darren left, they still had their senior year to finish out. Their community theater production opened the first week of May, and though it was by no means changing the face of thespian society, Chris was pretty proud of it. Darren was amazing, as he always was, and Chris felt he himself had done pretty well too.

 

They had a get together after the last matinee, Darren’s family and Chris’s, just a simple cookout at the Criss’s house. It was the first time their families interacted directly, Chris realized as he watched his mother pack a cooler full of side dishes and cookies. He wondered if he should be nervous.

 

He wasn’t though, especially riding on the high coming off the show. The Criss’s house felt more familiar to him now than any house other than his own ever had, and bringing his family into felt like the last barrier between them and the part of him that had always felt different was finally lifted. Darren’s father was set up on the back deck with a grill, the picnic table on the back lawn which Chris had never seen used covered with a plastic tablecloth and sweating pitcher of lemonade. It felt like a scene from some distant Americana drama, and Chris experienced a moment of disconnection, wondering when his life had turned into this.

 

But then Darren was there at his side, bouncing and happy, talking to Hannah very earnestly and enthusiastically about her favorite cartoons, and Chris could feel warmth blossom in his chest. He hadn’t been sure how his parents and Darren’s would get along, but over dinner a recollection started about the first play Darren had ever been in, which Chris’s mother had returned with an embarrassing story about Chris’s own first play, and it was easy after that.

 

Chris’s face hurt from smiling as the night descended, Darren’s fingers twisted into his under the table as the conversation buzzed around them. He was struck, so suddenly it made his heart cramp in his chest, with a vision of the future depicted in the faces of the people around him. He wanted this, he realized sharply. He wanted his family mixing with Darren’s, wanted Cerina talking to Hannah about her teacher next year, his mother and Darren’s father trading parenting experience.

 

His throat was closing around it, this sudden sharp feeling of need, to keep this moment preserved because it was just about perfect.

 

Excusing himself with a quiet word and gentle squeeze to Darren’s hand, he made his escape. With the lights all off and the sun setting, the Criss house was mostly dark as he traced the familiar steps up to Darrens bedroom. He just need some space, he thought, some room to breathe and clear his head as this feeling of necessity threatened to consume him. Darrens room was dark and cool and welcoming, and he sank onto the bed gratefully, fingering the familiar blankets.

 

It took less time than he expected for Darren to follow him, the door to the room creaking open after a couple minutes of sitting in silence.

 

"Chris?" Darren asked, concern evident in his voice as he stepped into the room.

 

Chris opened his mouth, to reassure Darren he was fine or make a joke, but what came out instead was "I love you." Biting his lip, he glanced away, then back to Darren. "I love you and I love your family and I want you to love my family and I want- I want so much more than I feel like I should at our age."

 

Darren nodded, padding across the carpet to sink onto the bed next to Chris. “You’re allowed to want things,” Darren said reasonable, and Chris sighed, deflating a little until he was leaning against Darren, shoulder to shoulder.

 

“I know. But you’ll be gone soon and it’s. Scary. The wanting,” he admitted, tipping in closer as Darren wound an arm around his shoulders.

 

“I’ll come back,” Darren promised. “And you can come visit me, and we’ll take Spring Break and drive up to San Fransisco, or go crash on my brother in New York, or go to Harry Potter world in Florida. We’ve got so many amazing adventures still to have. Don’t think you can shake me this easily, Colfer.”

 

Wet laughter bubbled out of Chris’s throat, but the desperate tension in his chest eased slightly. “I like the sound of that.”

 

Darren nudged Chris’s head up with his shoulder, twisting to press a soft kiss to his lips. It still tingled all the way down Chris’s spine, kissing Darren. He kind of hoped that would never stop.

 

“C’mon,” Darren muttered, grabbing Chris’s hand and standing, pulling him up by it. “Don’t want them getting suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

 

Stopping for a brief moment so Darren could snag his guitar, they made their way hand in hand back out into the yard of the Criss’s house. A fire had been set cracking in the stone basin in the yard (fire pit, Chris could now surmise), their family’s settled around it chatting pleasantly.

 

Chris let it lull him, the cool night air pleasant after the California heat, the glow and crackle of the fire mixing in with the soft notes of Darren’s guitar. He was dancing around a melody, something vaguely familiar to Chris, probably something he’d heard on playlist on Darren’s ipod. He wasn’t sure until Darren started to sing softly with the notes tripping out of the guitar. “As I lay by a streetlight not a word I could possibly say to explain my intrigue by how emphatic we are just to be, just to be...”

 

And yes, Chris did recognize it, it was on the mix CD that played in Darren’s car all the time. Smiling and catching Darren’s eye, he started singing along as well, softly enough to barely be heard. “And I'm sure that I've imagined these sites, but I forget why I was never enticed to go out and try but tonight dream becomes life.”

 

A grin spread across Darren’s face, swaying into Chris and nodding, encouraging him to sing louder as the conversation around them died, their families falling quiet to listen. “Cause here we are now riding currents they taste of a new town we're so high as the night's winding down just a spot on the map of this land it spans forever.”

 

“I lay by a streetlight as the summer air soaks in my lungs how impressive are we just to live and breathe in this world and how lucky am I to be so alive in this world, oh how precious are we just to simply be in this world.”

 

The song faded out with Darren’s guitar, a moment of silence descending around them, until one of their family started to clap. A hot flush stained Chris’s checks, as playful applause reigned down on them, and Darren swayed into his side.

 

“You two should sing together more often,” Darren’s father said solemnly, and Chris could practically feel the grin radiating off of Darren.

 

“I couldn’t agree more.”

 

\---

 

They got to stand near each other during graduation.  

 

It was perk of having last names that started with the same letter, Colfer and Criss only separated by Collins, a stringy red-headed boy named Mark that Chris had been standing next to in alphabetical lines for most of his life.

 

Darren was a bouncing ball of excitement leading up to graduation, his mortarboard covered in signatures and well-wishes from his friends in band and various other clubs. Chris’s own cap stayed blank right up until the afternoon of graduation, when Darren stole it from his closet and he and Hannah went to town with puff-paint markers. It was mostly an elaborate cat drawing they both proudly claimed credit for, but in the top right-hand corner there was a tiny little “DC <3s CC”, fake text heart and all.

 

He ran his fingers over it affectionately, then hugged them both with whispered thank yous, privately thinking about all the ways Darren managed to splash color into his life when it would have otherwise stayed black and flat.

  
So maybe he was trying too hard for the metaphor. He was graduating high school, he sort of didn’t care about the literary merits of his own internal monologue.

 

The ceremony itself somehow both dragged on and rushed by. Marching happened quickly, walking side by side with a girl he didn’t know at all, then partitioning off to the boys section, watching Darren two people behind him making stupid faces at his mother in the crowd, trying to take pictures. Cerina caught Chris’s eye from the crowd, turning her camera towards him, who made a silly face just because he knew it would make her laugh, tease him later about Darren being a bad influence.

 

Darren winked at him as he passed, that twitch-contraction of half his face, because Darren couldn’t wink the idiot, and Chris really wanted to laugh and also he kind of wanted to cry, because oh, god, high school was over. Forever.

 

The speeches took forever, the principle speaking then their valedictorian, and honestly Chris just spaced out through most of it. He was never going to have to walk down these halls again, get checked into lockers or have his posters ripped down. (He was never going to eat lunch with Darren in the writer’s room again, bump hips in the hallway, steal a kiss with his heart pounding in a parked car in the parking lot)

 

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he marveled that maybe there would be something to miss about high school after all.

 

Standing up to get his diploma was a surreal experience, cheered on by his family and Darren’s in the audience, and Darren in the stands behind him. Then all that was left was to cheer on Darren, and sit through the rest of the ceremonies. It flew by in a blur, then they were moving tassels, and everyone was throwing caps, Darren was nudging Mark Collins out of the way to hug Chris like he was never planning to let go of him.

 

It was all mostly hugging after that, from his own mother (sobbing) and Darren’s mother (also sobbing) back to Darren again (not sobbing, but pretending too and earning himself a cuff on the ear) and his father (not sobbing, but misty eyed). He got a handshake from Darren’s father, and an awkward fist-bump-nod-thing from Chuck, which Chris took to mean “I don’t know you, but congrats on your thing.”

 

They were parting ways after that, Chris had no desire to go to the senior class post-grad night, but he knew Darren had friends he wanted to spend time with, so he hadn’t let him skip. They’d skipped prom, Chris pointed out, he wasn’t going to rob Darren of all his quintessential high school experience.

 

Instead Chris went out to dinner with his family, trying to ignore the way his mother’s eyes teared up every time she looked at him. The rest of his family would all be converging on them in a couple of days, and so would Darren’s, and then Chris had to start his summer job and then all too soon-

 

Shaking himself internally, he put that from his mind. They still had the summer, starting with a couple uninterrupted days before family and work bore down on them. He would have time for Darren. Now he needed to focus on his family.

 

\---

 

Darren’s skin was painted gorgeous gold in the early summer sunlight, as they stretched out in the backyard of his house. Chris himself was slathered in sunblock and defiantly still wearing his t-shirt, but Darren was confident enough in their privacy and his own skin’s resilience to have lost his shirt long ago. His skin was warm under Chris’s cheek and fingers, head resting on Darren’s shoulders, fingertips tracing abstract patterns across his back.

 

“I’m going to get a really fucking weird tan line,” Darren said lazily, stretching out more across the towel they were laid out on, pen tapping absently on the notebook in front of him, page covered in a half written song.

 

“You dragged me out here, least you can do is be a pillow without complaining,” Chris huffed, and Darren’s laughed dislodged Chris’s head, flopping off his shoulder to land on one of the forearms propping him up.

 

“Dragged you?” Darren teased, raised one his ridiculous eyebrows. Chris poked it, feeling stupid on sunlight and fresh air and love.

 

“Mmmhm,” he hummed. “Made me, tricked me with your powers of persuasion.”

 

“It’s helpful that you’re so agreeable during blowjobs,” Darren said thoughtfully, and Chris poked him again, on the cheek this time. Darren twisted his head, catching Chris’s retreating finger lightly between his teeth with a playful growl.

 

“Mean,” Chris pouted, and Darren released him, leaning forward to catch Chris’s pout in a kiss.

 

“You love me,” Darren said confidently, nudging Chris’s head off his arm so he could go back to his song writing, and Chris sighed, twisting up so he could lay across Darren’s back again, snagging the book he brought out with him.

 

“You’re lucky I do,” He muttered, and could feel Darren laugh again. I really, really do.

  
  



End file.
